“This,” he said clearly, “is what I had once done.”

May 16, 2009

DSC_0799

“But,” I kept saying, and later was still moved, still seeing, later, the building of white and red where we had paused, where the word story took on a new shape, weight, texture, even a folding-back on itself like in the pattern of a row of chairs or of a seamed wall made up of slender, insistent roots. “But,” I kept saying, and kept saying later still, “but that’s . . . just . . .”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: